


Hot in the Kitchen

by Singerdiva01



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 15:51:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10620132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singerdiva01/pseuds/Singerdiva01
Summary: Kara comes home to find Laura baking cookies, and gets a lesson in a whole lot more than cooking. (A/U, no attacks, established relationship, written for the BSG kink community.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> All the thanks in the world go to @lanalucy for convincing me I could write again, and for being a little more than a beta on this fic. From her I borrow the idea of the Healing Arts benefit, and the courage to post some of my fic again. Thank you, Lana!

“Good evening, Ms. Thrace.”

Kara ducked her head and nodded awkwardly at Laura’s doorman. The guy still made her uncomfortable, even as nice and respectful as he always was. She wondered, every time she'd come to this place for the past eight months, what he must really think. 

_What the hell is the Secretary doing with this girl? She could do a whole lot better._

Kara kept her eyes on her boots as she stepped into the elevator he’d made a point of signaling for her. She tried to smile as the door closed but guessed, from the look on his face, it came off more as a grimace. 

There’d never been a doorman at the places she grew up. Unless she counted the revolving pieces of shit her mom dragged home. The better ones grudgingly accepted it was her right to enter her own house when she came home from school, and took their leave. One guy made her sit on the porch until he’d taken his fill of her mom, or she’d passed out. He was an asshole of the worst degree, but at least she didn’t have to deal with Socrata until morning for those few months he hung around. 

Kara stamped her foot and unbuckled and unzipped her flight suit as the elevator climbed the floors to the penthouse. This ride had become the time of day when she tried hardest to banish the doubts in her head. 

_Laura wants you here. She loves you the way you are. She begged you not to shower at work, to come home in your flight suit because she thinks it’s sexy. You have every right to be here._

The elevator dinged and Kara drew herself up, preparing her happy face for when the doors opened into the elegant expanse of Laura’s foyer. Mr. Helpful downstairs always called up to let Madame Secretary know to expect her guest; she figured he was probably waiting for the day she instructed him to call security instead. 

When the doors opened, Laura wasn’t in her usual place. However, the apartment smelled _amazing_. Like fresh baked cookies. Kara closed her eyes and took a long sniff. Back in the old days, she used to dream she’d come home to a place smelling like this. Karl’s mom sometimes baked for them, but she never told even him how nice it was to smell cookies rather than stale booze and sex when she walked in the door. 

“Kara, darling?” Laura’s throaty voice echoed through the marbled entrance. “Sorry, honey, I’m in the kitchen. Get in here!” 

Kara chuckled, her mood instantly improved, if only due to curiosity. Madame Secretary as baker was not a thing she’d ever imagined. She dropped her bag near the big, sturdy table that always held a delicate vase of lilies and strolled toward the kitchen. 

Before she could even get all the way in, her arms were filled with giggling redhead. 

“Welcome home, love,” Laura growled into her ear, nipping at her neck playfully. She pulled Kara down into a long, wine flavored kiss. She lost herself in Laura’s lips until neither of them could breathe. Laura reluctantly pulled away, but kept her body wrapped around Kara as she pulled her into the room.

“It felt like you’d never get here. Come on, I need your help.” 

Kara’s eyes went wide as she took in the disaster area that was the counters and the center island. Every surface was covered in flour, and it looked like Laura had pulled out every bowl, measuring utensil, and baking sheet she owned. 

“Ummm,” Kara stuttered, “wow.” Laura giggled and clutched her arm harder. “What the actual hell are you doing?” 

Roslin straightened seriously, swept her arm across the room, and then laughed again. “I’m baking, Lieutenant.” 

Kara squinted at her. Her lips were merlot red, and her eyes shone brightly. “Drinking and baking, you mean?” 

“Gods, there’s no other way to do it,” Laura answered, sweeping to the fridge to pull out a beer and offer it to Kara. As she looked around for an opener, she seemed to remember herself. 

“I’m not drunk, honey. I just came home a bit early today to start the cookies for the benefit. I’m almost done, and Olga is coming tomorrow to clean up, and I promise I didn’t drink that much.” 

She stopped babbling long enough to guiltily meet Kara’s gaze, and hand her the opener. 

Kara smiled, touched by Laura’s concern. She popped the beer, letting the cap clatter on the flour-dusted floor. “No, no, I know you’re not a drinker. I mean, I know you’re not a drunk.” Kara rolled her eyes at herself while Laura studied her carefully. “Frak, I just mean I know why you’re saying sorry and it’s fine. I just never expected you to do,” she pointedly looked at the sheet pans of cookies, “something like this.” 

“Ah,” Laura exclaimed, then paused to drop a kiss on Kara’s nose, an acknowledgment of all the history behind the awkwardness of the last few moments. “You weren’t here this time last year. The first year of the Healing Arts benefit, I made all the cookies for the damn thing.” 

Kara nodded, and swiped a discarded bowl to run her fingers through the dough inside. “Yeah, but it’s a huge society event now. And sorry, but I know you have more than enough money to hire someone to make the cookies.” 

Laura had turned her back to dig around in a drawer, and Kara hated herself for the insensitive comment. The money came from Laura’s family. Laura’s family was dead, hence the money and the condo and all the help. She felt like an asshole of the worst degree. 

Laura didn’t seem to notice, however. Instead, she batted Kara’s dough laden finger from her mouth and handed her the spoon. “Of course I hire people to bake and cater for the whole benefit. This is a tradition, of sorts. These are just for the kids and the staff.” 

Kara nodded as she tasted the raw dough, transferred from finger to spoon. “Oh my Gods, this is good,” she moaned. Her eyes were still closed in pleasure when Laura kissed her again, this time soft and gentle. 

Laura pulled back before Kara was ready, an insecure look in her eyes. “Really, it’s okay?” 

Kara pulled her close to her side. “Yeah, baby, it’s good.” When Laura’s eyes took on a measure of pride, Kara couldn’t help herself. “Much better than when I was a kid. I honestly thought someone put bleach in the benefit cookies when I was in the program.” 

Laura giggled again, and pushed Kara away playfully. “You’re a jerk. Reminding me I’m a cradle robber, or that my first efforts at baking were garbage?” 

Kara gulped down another bite of dough and grinned. “Both, I guess.” 

Laura hummed, and drifted back to the counter to palm her wine glass. “Just for that, you’re taking out the batch in the oven and putting these,” she pointed at three loaded sheet pans,” into it.” 

Kara could feel Laura’s eyes on her as she donned the fancy hot glove, removed the golden cookies from the oven, and used a spatula to place them carefully on the already assembled cooling racks. She glanced back halfway through, hoping for approval. Instead, she found the Twelve Colonies’ Secretary of Education focused intently on her ass. 

Laura licked her lips seductively. “Go on, get them in. Then we’ve got thirteen minutes before they’re done.” 

A hot jolt of arousal pooled in Kara’s groin. The tactician in her took over while she finished putting the cooling cookies on the metal racks. 

Laura was wearing a dress, with a delicate, frilly apron over it. With her heels, of course. Those would stay, she decided. Everything else was gonna end up on the kitchen floor. 

Kara wiggled her ass as she put the dough into the oven. She took her time, fiddling with the timer after she’d deposited them in the oven. 

Laura shrieked when she turned and, without warning, pounced, her teeth taking her lips with a roughness in no way befitting a woman in such a delicate apron. Her cries turned to moans in Kara’s mouth. 

“Oh, yeah, yes, please, I’ve wanted this all day, “she babbled, as her hands roamed Kara’s body. “Please, let’s get upstairs, baby, Kara, please.” 

Kara growled and lifted Laura’s hips up onto the nearest counter. She ignored her lover’s confused whines in favor of unhooking her apron and throwing it on the ground. “Oh, no. I’m gonna eat you right here on this counter, Laura. A tasty little ingredient.”

Laura’s answering noise was as needy as it was shocked. Kara’s shaking fingers started navigating her lover’s delicate silk blouse, fumbling with the tiny buttons. 

“For frak’s sake, rip it off, Lieutenant,” Laura ordered, raising her own delicate hand to eviscerate the fabric. Kara’s arousal jumped a few notches and she made quick work of tearing the purple silk off Laura’s body. She could feel Laura’s legs wrapping around her waist as she unhooked the matching purple bra. She dropped her lips onto Laura’s puckered nipple and was rewarded with a sharp cry. 

“Oh gods, yes, Kara, frak yes,” she hissed. Her long, manicured nails gripped the back of Kara’s neck, threaded through her short locks. 

Kara glanced at the timer for the cookies, and dismissed, with a not a small bit of regret, her plan of slowly torturing her lover. She kissed her way down her wriggling body, pausing to dig her tongue deep into her navel. Laura made the familiar purring noise, and pushed Kara's head down closer to her mound.

Laura whined when Kara moved away for just a second to push her back further on the counter. Once she was settled, Kara grabbed the fabric of her matching purple panties at her hips. With one tactical tug, the delicate fabric ripped.

“Yes, yes, eat me now, Kara, now,” Laura demanded. Her own hands were now on her tits, and her head nodded back and forth in pleasure. 

Kara smirked and directed her teeth to the porcelain expanse of Laura’s thigh. Biting her way up, careful to mark but not bruise, she felt herself becoming intoxicated by the scent of Laura’s arousal. She nuzzled the top of the red fuzz, drawing a frustrated grunt from the object of her ministrations. 

“I swear to Gods, Kara, you better not let those cookies burn,” Laura ground out, her shaky voice far from the one that made rooms full of cabinet members shudder. Kara was about to make a joke to the like when she found her head summarily lifted, and her mouth pushed lips deep into silky wet cunt. 

She giggled into the sopping flesh, knowing the vibrations would urge Laura on even more. Then she started eating like a hungry child, lapping at Laura’s clit with such intensity the older woman had to release Kara’s head to bang her palms onto the marble at her sides. 

“Kara, frak, yes, please, put your fingers in me,” she pleaded. Kara knew Laura was probably grabbing her breasts so hard now they’d look mauled later, and ached to look up at the sight. Instead, she decided to follow instructions for once. Without stopping her tongue, she brought up two fingers and shoved them carefully but forcefully into Laura’s entrance, and started thrusting upwards. 

Laura's chants of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ devolved into hard breathing and strangled moans as she came apart, her hungry, throbbing cunt practically devouring Kara’s face. Kara soldiered on, licking and slurping happily through the first, second, and then third screaming release. Finally, Laura pushed away her young lover’s head, laughing and mewling with pleasure. 

“Oh, Gods, I give honey, frak, wow,” Laura stuttered, as her body twitched with the last throes. “Gods, yes.” 

Kara levered herself up over her lover’s body, a prideful grin on her face. She swept down to kiss Laura hard, knowing the taste of her own juices combined with her fingers still thrusting hard into her would send her over the edge one more time. 

It was only when her last screams died away they both realized, at once, that the timer for the cookies was wailing in the background. A louder, more insistent alarm screamed out over the kitchen, signalling the condo’s smoke alarm. 

“Frak.” Laura pushed Kara off her with an arm around her shoulder, and motioned toward the smoking oven. “It seems we set something on fire.” 

Kara groaned good naturedly. “That wasn’t even close to funny, Ms. Roslin.” She pulled away, intending to get the burned baked goods out of the oven, when they both heard the chirp of the downstairs intercom. 

Kara was suddenly insecure again, even though she knew it wasn’t rational. She looked down at the floor beneath them, now littered with a torn blouse and undergarments that cost more than a whole month’s of a pilot’s salary each. 

“Laura, I’m so…” her words were cut off by Laura’s laughing kiss. 

“Don’t you dare apologize, darling. Get the poor, burned cookies out of the oven while I reassure the staff we’re not torching the place.” 

Kara watched, entranced, as Laura Roslin strode completely naked but for heels to the intercom. Her posture was as if she were going in to lead a cabinet meeting. 

She picked up the comm and winked at Kara. “Mr. Jaffee, yes, I apologize. There’s no issue. We were baking and time just got away from us.” She paused, listening to the young man, who Kara knew now had a name. “I think that’s a perfect idea, Mr. Jaffee. Ms. Thrace doesn’t need a call up anymore, she’s welcome anytime, day or night. You have a good evening too, sir.” 

Kara jerked back to the hard, formerly cookie bricks she was placing on a hot plate on the counter. She looked at Laura warily. “I think you just told the doorman I’m frakking you.”

Laura giggled as she came over to kiss the pilot. “Dearest, they knew that all along. I believe I just told them you’re starting the process of moving in with me.” 

Kara’s mouth hung open stupidly. Her world had just been turned upside down -- _Laura wants me to move in with her?!_ \-- but the older woman was just casually pulling another bowl of dough out of the fridge. 

“Are we making more cookies?” Kara fumbled for the closest pan, still dazed about what was happening.

“No, darling.” Laura advanced on her in full Madame Secretary mode. “I’m going to eat every bit of this dough off every single one of your parts,” Laura said, her eyes gleaming as she dipped a spatula into the container and waved it suggestively. 

Kara smirked, and sauntered her way over to her partner’s hips, her confidence returned. Domesticity, she decided in that moment, could definitely have its advantages.


End file.
